


The Salvatore Successor

by aCinnaMeg519



Category: Legacies (TV 2018), The Vampire Diaries & Related Fandoms, The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Alaric Saltzman/Damon Salvatore - Freeform, American Civil War, Civil War, Dalaric, Foster Care, Hurt Damon Salvatore, M/M, Minor Elena Gilbert/Damon Salvatore, Past Relationship(s), Post Vampire Diaries, Post-Canon, Pre Legacies, Vampire Cure, War Era, Witch Curses, human!damon, present day
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2019-09-06
Packaged: 2019-09-07 11:00:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16852789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aCinnaMeg519/pseuds/aCinnaMeg519
Summary: When Damon's heir arrives to Mystic Falls, he has more than one question to answer.  But who will stand by Damon's side as he attempts to answer them?Set in a Post Vampire Diaries, pre Legacies, Mystic Falls- Damon Salvatore turns to the only man he knows who has raised kids of his own.





	1. Exits and Entrances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damon's future is left uncertain, when a boy walks into his life and a girl walks out.

Chapter 1- Exits and Entrances

“Damon Salvatore?” A young man of about sixteen with neatly styled jet-black hair stood at the door. 

“We don’t need any!” Damon snapped and tried to slam the door in the boy’s face. He was frustrated. Elena and he had yet another argument about starting a family. They had tried for several years to get pregnant, but it wasn’t happening. At first, she believed that it was the Petrova curse- that the world had decided that it didn’t need another doppelgänger to become an abomination, however her thoughts turned to their time as members of the undead that caused them to be infertile. Needless to say, Damon ended up taking a hefty amount of the blame in these arguments, and it weighed upon him.

Damon knew that their relationship had soured, and he did not know how they were going to recover. Having children was never a goal that he shared with Elena or ever believed could be in his future, however he had been willing to honor her happiness. It was the first reason on the “Elena Gilbert Never Wanted to Become a Vampire” List. She had given up immortality to have a family and grow old. Damon’s only experience with children was raising Stefan, a virtual drug addict and total martyr: what a success. 

The young man at the door knocked again; Damon yanked it open, “Mr. Salvatore?” 

“What!” Damon shouted. 

“Um ah, Hi, nice to meet you...” the boy fumbled with his words, “Well…The thing is... I’m your family.” Whatever speech the boy had prepared left him in that moment.  
“Huh? Impossible. My family is dead.”

The boy standing before him blinked several times. He looked much more like a child when he was bewildered; his brilliant blue eyes fluttered. It was then that Damon began to notice the similarities: the hair, eye color, complexion.

“Damon? Who is it?” Elena called from within the house. 

“Um uh. I’m not sure,” Damon replied.

“Hi. Mrs. Salvatore? I’m Jack. Salvatore. I think I’m part of your family.”

“Oh… How are you related?” Elena asked confused. She knew that it was improbable that Zach had another secret child. Stefan and Damon were around for too long to have any other living relatives. Who did that leave?

“Well here’s the thing. I’m not exactly sure...” the boy, Jack, replied. “I have this family tree... he showed her a piece of paper with a list of names on it. “It’s weird, though, cause your name is Damon Salvatore, who according to this, was born in 1839 in Mystic Falls, Virginia. And according to the town’s phone book, you and Stefan are the only alive Salvatores in the area; I was assured that I would find family here in Mystic Falls, but you are the only ones.”

Damon flinched at the mention of his deceased brother. But Jack continued, “I can’t find how you would be related to the original Salvatore family.” Jack’s words became faster and jumbled as he started to talk. “I’m trying to find out where I came from- it’s my last option; I was given the name of this town… so I looked you up and here I am…”  
Damon began to process what the boy was saying. Could this boy be his... grandson? Great grandson? How many great grandsons? The reason that there was no record of any other Damon Salvatores on the family tree Jack had presented was because he was the Damon Salvatore who was born in 1839. Did that mean he had fathered a child, when? Before he was a vampire that’s for sure. There was a long pause.

“So... Who was the woman next to the Damon Salvatore on your family tree?” Elena asked, and Damon realized that she was still standing there.  
“Margaret Butler Meade,” the boy, Jack, replied reading the label. 

“Huh,” Elena replied and looked at Damon expectantly.  
Damon said nothing.

“Ok. So anyway,” Jack continued, “I’m pretty much the only one left. My parents died when I was very young and for a while I lived with my great uncle, but he is gone now too. Then… Anyway, I just was looking for someone to belong to. I thought maybe Mystic Falls had some answers- maybe some cousins I didn’t know I had.”

Elena looked misty. She knew exactly how Jack felt- alone and forced to face the world before he was ready. She had been not much younger than Jack; at least she had Alaric to look after her- and Jenna.

Damon still had not made a sound. He knew exactly who Margaret Meade was- he knew her as Maggie Butler. She was the first girl to who paid attention to him, which was back in the 1860s- it would have had to be 1863- the year he traveled to Gettysburg to fight for the Confederacy. 

Maggie, the daughter of a Union general, George Gordon Meade was a breath of fresh air: uncomplicated, funny, and had no expectations of how he should act. She was also the girl that took his virginity. It was therefore totally possible that he could have spawned a child during their time together, no one had invented Trojans yet, and he was human. Super.

“Damon? Damon!” Elena was practically shouting at him. Apparently, their conversation had continued during his daydreams. “Won’t you invite your relative in?” 

“Eh?” 

“Are you going to invite your relative into our home, Damon?” asked Elena.

“What? No!” exclaimed Damon. “He can’t come in here!” Damon made it a mission to never directly invite anyone into their home.

“Wow. Ah. Sorry for taking up so much of your time,” said Jack, as he turned around dejected. Clearly the boy had expected a different response.

Elena elbowed Damon, and gave him the “What the hell is wrong with you” look. “I’m sorry, Jack. Look, I’ll meet you at the Grill later tonight- around 8:00 pm?”

“Um... alright.” Jack agreed, “see you then.” He turned and walked down the stairs of their front porch to the street.

“What the hell is wrong with you, Damon Salvatore!” shouted Elena. Apparently, it wasn’t just “The Look” he was in for tonight, but the whole phrase. “You couldn’t have even been nice to a seventeen-year-old kid-who claims to be one of your own family members!” screamed Elena. “No wonder we can’t reproduce! You don’t want to have kids. You don’t even know what to do with a kid that is interested in knowing you!” 

“I don’t want to have kids? What have I been doing?” cried Damon. “Have I not been trying to get you pregnant every night- at every chance I have?”

Elena turned on her heel, “Yes. It is evident that that’s what you are doing. Just trying to get me pregnant. No love or affection- Is that how you look at me, as a specimen just trying to reproduce?” 

“What! I’m trying to make you happy! I’m trying to give you the family that you want!” 

“Damon! You said you wanted the same thing! That you would give up vampirism and everything you had up for a chance with me! To be the father of my kids!”

“Well maybe I shouldn’t have! Worst mistake of my life and I can’t even take it back!” replied Damon.

“Because life didn’t just work out how you planned, or that you didn’t get what you wanted? Poor baby. Are you that stupid that you don’t realize that you don’t make me happy either?” Elena huffed.

“Because I’m always the one who is so selfish!”

“Self-proclaimed. It is just not as charming as it once was.”

“What does that even mean?”

“You once said you loved me and were too selfish to give me up. And now? I don’t even know…” Elena trailed off, walked deeper into their picture-perfect house, and came back with a suitcase that they stored in their hall closet. “Just leave. It is clear you don’t want this life and I’m not sure I want it either- not with you. You are free. Figure out what you want on your own time.”

“Elena... wait.”

“What? Did you mean something different? Do you want to continue having the same three arguments on rotation, or did you want the chance to live some other kind of life? Are you really happy living like this?”

Damon didn’t reply. He had not been happy for a long time. It had been years since he had given up everything he had to love her- his house, his fortune, his vampirism. Somewhere along the line the love that was once epic had dried up. 

“Fine, you’re right.” Damon said. “I should figure out what might make me happy; we both should.”

Elena began to climb up the stairs, she paused on the fifth step. “At least meet up with that kid- he seemed lost. He wanted to find out where he came from- try not to disappoint him.”

“You think I’m a disappointment?” asked Damon, his heart breaking. 

“You know what, I’m not answering that. I’m sick of fighting. I just want to move on with my life- even if that doesn’t include you. Good luck, Damon. I wish you the best of luck.” Elena shut the door. 

How she could be so calm in spite of this revelation was still a mystery to him. When Damon got up this morning, he had no clue that he would be left out to dry on his front porch with nowhere to go.


	2. Brothers of Bourbon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damon meets up with Jack Salvatore at The Mystic Grill and runs into another familiar face. Luckily, The Grill serves Bourbon... and Fried Pickles!

CHAPTER TWO: Brothers of Bourbon

Damon got into his blue Camaro and drove to the Mystic Grill. At least he hadn’t traded in his car for an SUV like Elena had suggested not too long ago. It had been with him since the sixties, which was more than he could say about most things in his life. Although it was not always the most practical car, it had served him well through his years.

When he got to The Grill, he resumed sitting in his regular seat. Matt Donovan came over to ask for his order. 

“Still working here, Donovan, even after all this time?” asked Damon, in a way that was snarky, but now sounded like an overused joke. It was less rude than it may have been at one point in their lives.

Yep,” replied Matt, “now that football season has ended, I try to pick up an extra shift here and there. The Regulars usually give good tips.” He emphasized the word usually. There was a time that Damon wasn’t known at The Grill for paying let alone tipping. 

Matt Donovan was the new football coach slash high school history teacher at Mystic Falls High. After Alaric left to start his own school, it left the position open, which Matt was eager to fill. He had applied via the alternate route program and had gotten a history degree online, while waiting tables at the Grill full time. Damon thought privately that he had done rather well for himself overall, but he would never tell Matt that. Matt filled up a tumbler with bourbon and slid it over to Damon, just as another familiar bar fly sat in his usual seat. 

“Bourbon as well, Mr. Saltzman?”

“Alaric and yes, please.”

“Sure thing,” Matt replied and went to get his drink.

“It’s unusual to see you here on a Tuesday night,” stated Damon, barely looking at Alaric’s face as he spoke.

“Yeah, well, don’t you have a wife to get back to?” Replied Alaric failing to cover up his bitterness. Their relationship had never truly recovered after he married Jo, after the damn Siren had controlled Damon, and after Damon’s actions ended up putting Alaric’s twins in jeopardy. 

“Alas, tonight I’m taking a night off,” Damon failed at being suave. Matt dropped off Alaric’s drink in front of him and hustled into the kitchen, making it clear that he was avoiding being present for their interactions. 

Damon and Alaric, despite frequenting the same bar, usually avoided each other. Presumably, Alaric was bitter and angry and Damon felt guilty, but was unable to express it clearly. The “sometimes I do things that I don’t have to do” apology lost its charm many years ago, and Damon and Alaric’s relationship ceased to exist around the same time. Today, many years later, that Alaric seemed at least a little bit curious as to the cause of Damon’s sour mood. 

“How old are the girls now, anyway?” asked Damon.

“Twelve and you are really going to start off with a question about them? Seriously?” 

“You have been spending too much time around Caroline. Let’s just say, I’ve had kids on the brain recently.” 

“Is Elena…” 

“No. No such luck,” replied Damon. “Don’t you think that you would have been the first to know being her step-father or whatever and all?”

“I don’t know if that really counts anymore- she’s almost thirty. I don’t think she really needs looking after anymore, do you?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Damon was curt in his response, which suggested that he was not willing to share any further information on the subject. The pair drank in silence for a while and it felt remarkably similar to the days when Damon deemed themselves ‘Team Badass’ and Alaric punched him in the face.

Alaric studied Damon out of the corner of his eye and noted that the man had aged rather gracefully. Although the deep circles under his eyes suggested that he was worn down, Damon remained an attractive man. 

“Uncle Damon! You came!” Jack came bounding across the Grill towards the pair of men.

“Yeah. I had nowhere else to be,” replied Damon. Alaric looked on with unabashed interest, mouthing the words “Uncle Damon” at him in question.  
“Cool!” Jack exclaimed. “Can you tell me more about our family?” Alaric started coughing into his drink; whatever he had expected this boy to say, it wasn’t that. “Are you okay?” Jack looked at Alaric concerned. 

“He’ll be great, right, Ric?” said Damon, as he clapped him on the back, like they hadn’t been estranged for the past decade. 

“Um yeah. It must have gone down the wrong pipe.”

“Hey, Jack,” Damon addressed the boy by name for the first time, “Could you please get Alaric here a drink of water from the bar tender over there?” He pointed at Matt Donovan. 

“Sure thing!” said Jack, eager to impress Damon. Jack walked to the other end of the bar to where Matt Donovan was avoiding the interactions between Alaric and Damon.

Once he was out of hearing distance, Ric turned to Damon and hissed, “What’s the deal with the kid? Is that who you and Elena were fighting over?”

“What? No! That kid has come here from out of town and claimed to be my descendant!” 

“What! Does that mean that he knows?” 

“No! He found an old family tree; thinks that I’ve been left off or something and is because I’m the only Salvatore in the Mystic Falls telephone book!”

“Mystic Falls still makes a telephone book? And that’s not exactly true... the school and Caroline are both Salvatores!”

“Maybe that school of yours didn’t make the cut!” Damon said smugly.

“So, how are you gonna get rid of him?” Alaric asked, ignoring his reply. “Do you think he has any idea what you were?”

“No. He mentioned going after family relatives after his parents died,” said Damon. “Maybe he’s related to Zach.”

“Or maybe...”

“Please don’t go there.”

“What? You don’t strike me as the ‘save it for marriage type,’ even if it Civil War times,” Alaric reasoned. 

“Are you calling me a whore?” asked Damon, amused.

“I’m not answering that, but you do have to consider…”

“What are you saying exactly? That this kid could be my great, great, great, grandson?” 

“Weirder things have happened.”

“Like what?”

Alaric looked at him incredulously, “You hooked up with a girl and her several times great, great, grandmother, who were identical copies of one another.”

“Let’s not drudge up ancient history,” replied Damon. Damon then knew that his relationship with Elena was beyond repair. 

Jack returned with the forgotten cup of water from Matt and said, “Hey! So, I was trying to dig deeper into our families archives to find a more direct line from our ancestor, but all I can find is the ancient Damon Salvatore.”

“Uh. What kind of information did you find?”

“Just the basics: lived in Mystic Falls until he died at 24 in 1864, he was a member of the Confederate Army and a deserter- which is kind of disappointing. I had hoped that I wouldn’t be related to a cowardly racist, but it is Virginia, so what could I expect, right?”

Damon’s face began to turn a deep shade of purple, “Do you think cowardice is the only reason to be a deserter?”

“Well that or marriage. I know the rich could buy their way out, but that didn’t happen or there would have a been a record of it,” replied Jack.

“Maybe,” Damon replied, “the original Damon Salvatore felt an extraordinary about of pressure from an unfair father to join up with the confederacy, and when he saw the destruction of war couldn’t bear to continue fighting for a future that he did not truly believe in, especially because there were many innocent civilian lives taken as well!”

“Wow, Damon. That’s oddly specific. What would make you say that?” asked Alaric, looking at Damon intently.

Damon glared at him. “I read, in that book you lent me,” his eyes narrowing, “that a sense of familial duty was prevalent during this time. I can’t imagine a seventeen or eighteen-year-old teenager getting wrapped up in a war about the slave trade willingly.”

Jack looked between them. “Maybe, but I still think I like this present-day Damon Salvatore much better than the 1864 version.” 

Damon grimaced and took a large swig of his bourbon. The dramatic irony was lost on Jack, and Alaric changed the subject to something more amicable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know if any of the dates don't add up... I tried my best fitting this story into the actual timeline.


	3. Who's been sleeping in my bed?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alaric brings Damon home to the Boarding House, but finds someone else is sleeping in his bedroom.

CHAPTER THREE: Who’s been sleeping in my bed?

“The kid wondered why there was no trace of any other family members in town- no other Damon Salvatores on the family tree? I’ll tell you why! Because I’m the Damon Salvatore from 1839; he found me on the damn family tree!” Damon had been pacing and ranting in the parking lot of the Mystic Grill for the past ten minutes. Alaric had not been able to get a word in edgewise. “…And what five generations later the kid of the kid of the kid I... I might have… and I’m supposed to be responsible for him? He’s not my....” Damon drifted off.

“You don’t even know he wants anything from you.”

“Oh, I know he is after something.”

“Maybe he is doing a genealogy project for school.”

“He wants something from me I can feel it. He came to Mystic Falls with his little match boy routine hoping that I’m gonna open up my home to him ‘cause we share a last name!”

“Speaking of home- where…” Alaric began, but Damon wasn’t done ranting.

“He’s not my responsibility. And that’s the end of it. What is he going to do to prove that I’m his relative? No court can prove that! I died in 1864!”

“Damon, be reasonable,” said Alaric, calmly.

“I am being reasonable,” Damon snapped, “He is certainly not coming home with me!” retorted Damon.

“He doesn’t have anywhere else to go,” Alaric interjected.

“And how is Mystic Falls better anywhere else? We have a supernatural crisis every other week. You run a school for them for Christ sake! It is not safe for him to live here.”

“See you’re already worried about him.”

“No,” Damon gave a look that was intended to be incredulous, but really just showed evidence of his fear.

“Buddy, you know I’ll be here for you whatever you decide.”

“I don’t know that,” Damon said as he resigned to silence.

Alaric continued, glazing over the interruption, “I’d say I can take him in, and send him the Salvatore School- but we don’t exactly advertise what we do there…”

Damon was no longer paying attention to what Alaric had to say. “This would be so much easier if I could just compel him to go away!”

Alaric didn’t say anything- he didn’t have to. He had made it very clear over the years how he felt about compulsion, and now that they were both human, there was little reason to have that argument again. The pair sat in silence for a while longer. 

“So, where are you going to go?” asked Alaric, “Home?”

“Nah, I guess I’ll just get a hotel room downtown.”

Alaric made a noncommittal noise in the back of his throat as he weighed his options, “You could always come back to the School with me.”

“Sleep at the Boarding House?”

“Look, I can’t let you pay for a hotel room when you gave me your home. Please, Damon, come with me,” said Alaric looking guilty.

“You’d really let me stay there?” Damon asked, not willing to be hopeful.

“Come on,” Alaric consented, “You look like you need some rest.” Alaric wasn’t sure what prompted him to offer up a room. Sure, the building used to be the Salvatore  
boarding house, but it was a school now- there were children who lived there. Random men couldn’t just crash on the living room sofa, even if Damon did used to own it. Luckily, many students went home for break. 

“Alright,” Damon conceded. 

“But no wild parties!” Alaric teased half-heartedly. “No promises,” Damon replied, in the same manner.

*****

Damon walked in through the front doors after Alaric. This was weird: it was like he had come home to find that someone had completely redecorated without his permission. Alaric loitered in the landing uncomfortably until he finally said, “Come, I’ll show you to an empty room.” Damon awkwardly followed Ric up the stairs, past the room he still thought of as his own, to a smaller room next door. 

“So… who lives in my room now?”

Alaric looked uncomfortable. “Well, Caroline took Stefan’s room, so instead of giving your room away, I gave up the flat to live here…” his voice dropped off.

“You live in my room?” this intrigued Damon, who had thought that Alaric would faster use his room for storage than take it as his own.

“You know it has the best water pressure…”

“I do know that.”

“And it’s centrally located…”

“At the end of the hall?” replied Damon skeptically.

“It is close enough to the students that I am available, but I can still get some rest,” Alaric replied. 

The pair was quiet for a moment, until Damon said, “Good. I’m glad.”

“Glad?”

“That you are the one sleeping in my bed. Good night.” Damon replied coyly, and before Alaric could reply, he slipped inside the guest room without looking back over his shoulder at Alaric’s face. 

*****

Damon was surprisingly okay with the fact that Alaric was the one who had taken over his bedroom. He had stayed in Damon’s room many over their years of friendship- it felt right, definitely better than if greasy teenagers lived in it. Student housing was disgusting. 

Damon lay down in the bed next door and thought about Ric living in his room. He wondered: Did Alaric redecorate? Did Alaric sleep in his obnoxiously large bed? Did he still sleep flat on his face like a corpse? Did he put the soaking tub to use? Was Alaric laying there right now looking at the ceiling like Damon was? 

He wished he was with Alaric right then. Eventually, Damon drifted off to an uneasy night’s sleep.


	4. Bring Me that Horizon

CHAPTER FOUR: Bring me that horizon.

“You,” said Damon, as he walked down the stairs of the Boarding House the next morning. The kid from yesterday was in the living room. In his chair. In his favorite chair. “Are you stalking me or something?”

“Woah. Paranoid much?” Caroline went to stand behind Jack in the living room. She put both of her hands on his shoulder’s reassuringly. Damon wondered how Jack believed that Caroline ran this school- she still looked seventeen, despite the haircut and suit jacket.

“Caroline Forbes,” Damon took in the blonde. 

“Salvatore.”

“Sorry, Caroline Salvatore. And you had something to do with this?” Damon gestured to the teenager in front of him. 

“Forbes- Salvatore, actually. I hyphenated it, and yes I did.”

“Of course, you did.”

“And he stopped by this morning, said his name was Jack Salvatore. Mentioned that he was in town visiting family, but they had no room for him to stay? Found out about the school in the Mystic Falls phone book? You wouldn’t know anything about that now would you, Damon?”

“Nope. Never heard of him,” replied Damon. “You didn’t move my kitchen, did you?” Damon made his way across the room to check out what the school had hidden in the stainless-steel appliance. Jack covered for him- that was interesting.

“Oh no, you don’t! Damon Salvatore, you get your butt back here right now!” Caroline stalked across the room following Damon into the kitchen and left Jack in the living room alone. “You listen here! That kid has been through enough. He has lost everyone he has ever cared about, and you have the audacity to throw him out on the street? He had to sleep in his car last night. Did you know that?”

“Well, at least it was warm out,” Damon replied sardonically.

“It’s February!” Caroline exclaimed, “You and Elena have a nice house with several extra bedrooms, which you could have used to put that boy up, and you left him out in the cold. He could have died.” Damon’s face must have shown more than he’d like to let on because Caroline’s tone turned completely around. “Unless... is there is something else you’d like to share?”

“There isn’t really a me and Elena anymore.” At one point, Damon would have covered this new development up with a sharp quip, but he didn’t have it in him this morning. 

“Oh, Damon!” Caroline threw her arms around him, clearly her vampiric heightened emotions still got the better of her some days. “I’m so sorry!” Her tone turned serious. “We still have to do something with your great-grandson out there though!”

“That obvious, huh?”

“You’re practically twins.”

“I’m older.”

“You’re dead ringers for each other.”

“He has acne.” 

“You’re exact copies, duplicates, doppel-….”

“I swear if the word doppelgänger comes out of your mouth in the next thirty seconds, I will beat you” he hissed.

“Is that a threat, Mr. Salvatore? That’s pretty daring! Threatening a vam... Jack!”

“Who’s being threatened?” Jack asked.

“Damon was being impossible, as usual,” she said airily. “Would you like some breakfast? Damon would love to make you some pancakes! They are his specialty, especially if you are both staying here!”

“Uh. What?” Damon grunted, and glared at Caroline.

“What? His last name is on the sign same as you! And being a historical residence- it’s not like you can claim ownership over the property. It’s owned by the school!” Caroline looked more pleased with herself in that moment than she had in her entire life. 

“Right, well of course, you are welcome to stay,” Damon grumbled. Not sure how to argue with her about this just yet.

“I’m going to find Alaric!” She left Damon and his heir in the kitchen alone.

“So how are you two... I thought you were with the pretty dark-haired lady.”

“Oh yeah. Caroline is actually my sister- in- law.”

“Oh! You have a brother? I’d love to meet him too!” Jack excited at the opportunity to meet more family members. 

“You can’t. He’s dead.” Damon said bluntly. He longed for the days he could just shut it all off, but thanks to the Cure running through his veins, that was no longer an option. Damon worked in silence on the pancake batter, and Jack sat at the table trying to work out what questions to ask next that wouldn’t upset Damon further. 

Obvious relief gushed into the room when Caroline pushed a pajama clad Alaric into the kitchen. Damon took in wrinkled t-shirt, plaid pajama pants, and his adorably sleepy face. He longed to smooth out Alaric’s bed head, instead merely tightened his grip on the spatula and flipped the pancakes on the griddle. Caroline hadn’t even given Ric the time to put on shoes- his feet were bare against the chilly tile. “Coffee, now,” he said. 

“In the pot,” said Caroline.

“Where are Lizzie and Josie?” asked Alaric.

“Liz and Jo left this morning to go shopping downtown,” replied Caroline.

“Are there any other students here?” inquired Damon from the range.

“Only Hope Mikaelson; the rest went home for break- we work on a trimester cycle which…” she replied.

“Mikaelson. As in...” Damon trailed off.

“Yep, yep Mr. Original himself,” replied Alaric.

“You allowed her here?” asked Damon. Caroline looked pale, and Alaric looked at his feet.

“Who is Mr. Original?” asked Jack, all of them had forgotten he was still sitting there. 

“One of our student’s fathers,” said Caroline bluntly; it was clear that she did not want to discuss the topic further. “So, who wants breakfast?” Caroline’s voice went from miserable to cheery in a matter of seconds; she had practice hiding her grief.

Pancakes were served, and although they lacked the whipped cream vampire teeth Damon used add in the past, they were still delicious.

***** 

After breakfast, they relocated to the living room, and when Damon was sitting in his chair by the fire, his phone rang. “Where are you?” asked Elena on the other end, desperation in her voice.

“Hello?” he replied.

“Where are you?” She repeated.

“I’m not sure that is any of your business anymore.”

“Have you seen Jack?”

Damon looked over at the boy. “Why do you want to know?”

“There is a man here- John Freeman- who is looking for him. He says that he is a runaway and is here representing the state of Virginia to take him back home.”

“There is a man that wants to take Jack home?” Damon replied looking at Jack, who began shaking his head vigorously.

“Jack is…”

“No, please…” Jack whispered desperately.

Damon held up a finger. “Jack is not here,” Damon said on the phone. Jack looked relieved.

“Well, let me know if you see him.”

“Will do. Look, I’m very busy right now. I don’t have time to go after a kid that I met one time. How did this John Freeman even know to look here?”

“He um… How did you know to look here?” Elena must have covered the phone, but Damon could hear part of the conversation, a man’s voice stated, “It’s in his records that he is a chronic… Mystic Falls... Looking for him… told…. find his father” 

Elena put the phone back up to her ear and said, “Mr. Freedman says that Jack is a chronic runaway; he told one of the other boys in the home that he wanted to go to Mystic Falls to find his father. Damon? He seems really concerned. If you know anything, just tell me. I don’t think you are telling me everything you know.”

Damon sighed, “You are right. I did see him.” Jack looked scared, but Damon held up hand. “Last night at The Grill last night. I told him I would meet him there again tonight.”

“Thank you so much! I really hope that he will be safe!” she replied.

“Yep. Have a nice day, Elena,” Damon said with a sense of finality.

“You, too” she replied; Damon hung up the phone.

“Are you gonna turn be over to Mr. Freeman?” Jack said with panic in his voice immediately after he got off the phone.

“No.” Damon replied, and his phone buzzed. He read the text message: Take Jack away from here now!!!!!!! E.

“We are going on a road trip!” announced Damon and clapped his hands once.

“What?” replied Jack. “We are going away for the weekend and on the way, you can explain to me all about why this man is after you. Go pack.”

*****

Twenty minutes later, Damon was on the phone with Elena, under the carport in front of the front door of the Boarding House turned school.

“What’s with the exclamation points, Elena?” he paced back and forth. 

“The man who was here. He knows something. There was something not right about him.”

“Like he wanted to take Jack away? Back to foster care or wherever he came from?”

“No, like he asked more questions about you than about Jack’s whereabouts.”

“What?”

“Mr. Freeman asked more questions about you than Jack. So, I asked him for a business card. Turns out not only does he work for the state, he is also an associate professor of Sociology at Whitmore College,” said Elena frantically.

“Ok, but that does… Whitmore.” 

“Yes. And Dianne Freeman was...” Elena paused, waiting 

“The Super Shady Head of Security that me and Enzo…”

“Tied up, tortured, and killed? Yes,” she confirmed.

“We have to get out of here.” 

“I told them that you were meeting Jack at the Grill at eight o’clock tonight. If you leave now you can get a head start.”

“I’ll let you know when the coast is clear.”

“Thank you.” 

“And, Damon, please, be careful. Take Ric with you.” 

“He barely let me stay here last night.”

“He cares about you more than you know,” said Elena wisely.

Damon was speechless. He was just coming to terms with just how much he had missed Ric over the last decade; Ric was the only one who truly knew him; even when they fought, Alaric didn’t try to change him, but then he left him. Finally, Damon replied to Elena, “I’ll ask him.” 

“Be safe.”

“Goodbye.”

“Bye,” even though they promised to talk later, their goodbyes were weighted with a sense of finality. Their relationship was over and both parties were at peace with the result.

Damon reentered the school. 

“Riccccccc!” he shouted. “Are you down for a road trip?” 

“What?” Alaric appeared at the top of the main staircase and walked down them causally one at a time. 

“Road trip: me, you, Jack. The open road. The Corvette. Just two men and their sunset?” Damon put his arm around the man’s broad shoulders and brought his hand out in front of him to help illustrate the horizon line. 

“I thought you said Jack was coming.”

“Don’t ruin the image,” Damon said. “Anyway, we have to hit the road, now.”

“Now?”

“Now, now. Ric, you used to be down for spontaneous.”

“I used to not have kids. I have to talk to Caroline.”

“Is she your boss?” said Damon, mockingly.

“She just got back from a rather painful trip to New Orleans, and I don’t know if she would be happy if I just left her with the girls alone.”

“That sounds like just what she needs. Girl time. Tell her to call Elena, and she, and Elena, and the girls can have a Girls Night.”

“Maybe…”

“I know, Elena will agree. She loves that kind of shit. Tell her to call them! I’m going to pack. Go get the car.” And suddenly, Alaric had been shanghaied once again into a makeshift road trip with Damon and his could be descendent.


	5. Great Expectations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alaric questions Jack about his intentions towards his patriarch.

CHAPTER FIVE: Great Expectations

Alaric sat in the front seat of his SUV waiting for Damon and Jack to bring their stuff out of the Boarding House. Damon had instructed him to get the car, while they both finished packing; something else the two Salvatores had in common was the unreasonably long amount of time it took for them to pack for a long weekend.

“Finally.”

“It was the kid. Where is the Corvette?”

“I finished packing two seconds after you,” said Jack walking out behind Damon.

“No way!” exclaimed Damon

“Yes.”

“You both take forever. I’ve been waiting here for ten minutes! So much for “emergency!” and “leave right away,” grumbled Alaric.

“Where’s the corvette?”

“Like it has the trunk space for both of your things?”

“It’s a classic.”

“You invited Alaric?” asked Jack.

“Of course,” replied Damon.

“Right. Well, I’ve always wanted to go on a big family vacation,” Jack replied snidely, and he stared out the window. They were all quiet for quite some time. The trees past the car window and Damon turned on the car stereo to a classic rock station.

“How can this even be considered classic rock?” This came out in like 2003,” complained Damon, as the Chili Pepper’s “Dani California” drifted out of the car speakers.

“2006, I think,” Jack spoke up.

“Yeah, so not classic rock.” 

And the silence resumed. It was quite some time before Jack tried again. “So, where are we going?” asked Jack.

“Away,” replied Damon.

“You aren’t gonna tell me?” 

“First, you are going to tell me, why my now ex-wife had to contact me, and tell me to take you away. Spill kid.”

“Why are you even helping me?” 

“I ask the questions here!” Damon nearly shouted at him. 

From the fear written on Jack’s face, Ric realized that Jack quite literally had no idea what was going on or whether or not he had made the right decision to put his faith in Damon and- by extension- Alaric.

Finally, Jack launched into his backstory, “Because I am right on the cusp of 18, there weren’t many options for me in the foster care system. I was co-erced into saying that I was into drugs… Six months ago, and I was placed in a sobriety house, even though I wasn’t an alcoholic or a druggie…”

*****

“Mr. Salvatore, please follow me.” Jack followed the man down the puce colored hallway; the color made the yellowish hue of his skin stand out causing him to look jaundiced; perhaps this man should be a resident of the facility. 

Jack had just signed the intake forms for a sobriety facility called Greenlake Manor; although he did not need to be a part of the program- he did not have a problem with drugs or alcohol- there were no other placements for an adolescent of his age to go.

“This will be your room,” the jaundiced man continued. “Here is your schedule, with your educational classes and program classes, you room key, bedding will be provided, but you will need to provide your own clothes and shoes.”

Jack Salvatore looked around the room; there were two white metal bed frames with neatly folded grey wool blankets, and two small bureaus and a desk in the corner. A near empty bookshelf stood next to the door. The room smelled medicinal. 

“Your first program meeting will begin at three- fifteen sharp. Do not be late. The warden does not take kindly to lateness.”

“The warden? But I’m not a prisoner. I haven’t done anything wrong!” “You must be on time at three- fifteen sharp,” the man said and shut the door; he heard a click of a lock and sure enough, he was unable to open the door.

*****

“…and that’s when I knew I needed to get out of there. The caretakers showed me a list of activities that I needed to be a part in to be eligible to stay, so I attended the program and escaped that night. I refuse to live as a criminal for crimes I did not commit; that’s when I ran away to find you.” He was shaking by the end of the story; Damon heart tugged in his chest and he longed to reach out and hug the boy. He knew first- hand how long scars could last on one’s heart. But he said nothing.

Alaric intervened, “So, what are you expecting of Damon, now that you have found him?” 

“You’re very protective of him,” noted Jack.

“Yes, I am. Don’t change the subject. What do you want from Damon?”

“I just was hoping… I wanted to…” Jack did not know where to begin, “I need a place to live for three and a half months. Then I will be an adult, and I’ll be able to be on my own with nobody following me. I will sign the discharge papers and claim my independence.”

“Three months?”

“My birthday is May 24. I’ll be an adult.”

“And discharge you from what exactly?” “I’d no longer be a ward of the state. In Virginia, they try to look after you, even after you are eighteen. Make you keep going to school, attend meetings, check in with them constantly, but I am done with all of that. I just want to move on and start my life. Get a job, an apartment, have the freedom to do whatever I want, whenever I want.”

Alaric observes Damon thoughtfully, who was still staring out the window of the car.

“You don’t think you should go to school? College?” asked Alaric, the educator in him couldn’t help it.

“I’ve been to enough “schools” in my life,” replied Jack. “I’m done with anyone who is going to try to change me.”

“It would give your more options,” said Alaric, “career wise.”

“And who would pay? College is expensive, and I don’t have the money.”

“What would you study, if you had the option to go?” asked Alaric, swiftly navigating around the money situation. 

“History,” Jack replied. 

Alaric perked up at that answer, “What type of history? What would you do with that major?”

“American- maybe the Revolutionary War or World War II?

Alaric cast a sideways glance at Damon to make sure he was listening and asked, “Not the American Civil War?”

“You know, I’ve always found the Civil War kind of pointless,” Jack said conversationally.

Damon clenched his hands and trying to keep his voice level, asked, livid, “Oh, why’s that?”

“Americans fighting Americans over basic human rights… I don’t know. It is the bloodiest, but that doesn’t make it the most interesting. I just think stronger legislation during that time could have warded off a lot of bloodshed. It is a war that should never have had to been fought in a country that was founded on the principles of freedom and liberty. It was our own stubbornness that led to so many pointless deaths.”

Damon was taken aback; he could have written that speech. It was the reason that he had left the Confederate Army. “With that passion on the topic, it sounds like the exact reason you should study it,” said Alaric.

“What are you some kind of history professor?” he asked Alaric.

“In another life, I was a high school history teacher. Damon knows a lot about history, too,” Alaric added, “Don’t you, Damon, especially the Civil War?

“Erm. Yeah.”

“The civil war? Like the old Damon Salvatore? He was alive during the civil war, right?”

“Yes. He was,” Damon replied.

“Is that why? Jack asked, but Damon didn’t answer; he just fidgeted in his seat, and looked out the window.

*****

Alaric drove his SUV up the long winding driveway to the Gilbert’s family lake house. It wasn’t the best hideout. Hopefully Augustine, an organization dedicated to ridding the world of vampires, of which Grayson Gilbert was a part, would not think to search for an ex- vampire there. Hopefully.

Damon found the hide a key under the ceramic turtle and opened the front door; he remembered when people were wary to allow him to enter their homes. When he needed an invitation to enter. At least that was one perk of his now miserable human existence.

“What are you thinking about?” asked Alaric.

“The ease at which I can break and enter.”

“It still bothers you, huh?” asked Alaric.

“The worst decision I ever made,” Damon replied. 

“Are you, like, on the run, or something?” Jack picked up on the undisclosed information floating between the two other men. “Are we breaking into this house right now? Are the cops going to come?” Jack asked anxiously. Jack still did not know about Damon’s past vampirism.

“No, this is my wife’s family’s house.”

“I thought you had… you know what, never mind. As long as she doesn’t mind,” replied Jack. 

“What’s hers is mine,” Damon replied and they entered the cabin. Everything still looked the same- wooden, slightly out dated, and rustic. Everything was pine scented. “Go wash up, I’ll start dinner.”

“You are going to cook?” asked Jack.

“Yes. I am. The bathroom is down the hall to the right.” Ric looked at Damon dubiously, and Jack walked down the hall. Damon held Alaric’s gaze and continued, “I’ll have you know that I make an excellent house wife.”

“Is that so?” Ric said and leaned over on the counter towards Damon, “What other qualifications do you have?”

“So many qualifications. I’m very good at polishing all sorts of hardware,” Damon replied seductively. Ric looked stunned at Damon’s comment, and didn’t reply.

Jack walked back into the kitchen and Damon turned to begin their meal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know if you are confused by any section of the story! I did a fair share of research about the VA foster system and used a real testimonial as a guide when writing Jack's backstory. Totally heartbreaking.


	6. A History Lesson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack finds out his family has a secret, and Damon finds his family has a curse; at least, they are still founding family members and eligible to be on the town council.

CHAPTER SIX: A HISTORY LESSON

After about an hour of stilted dinner conversation, Damon disappeared into one of the bedrooms, while Jack and Alaric cleaned up the dishes.

“Jack, come here!” Damon held out one of the Gilbert journals. Jack took the leather-bound book and looked through the handwritten text. 

“What is this?”

“You are interested in history, yes? This is the memoir of one of the founders of Mystic Falls, VA. He is a bit looney, as you’ll see, but it is interesting nonetheless.”

Jack flipped through the book, “Hey! Your name is in here- old Damon Salvatore is in here!”

“Yeah. He’s not remembered too fondly,” Damon hesitated, “Anyway, read this, and let me know what you think. When we get back to Mystic Falls, I will try the ones from our family, too. If you are interested.”

“Yes!” Jack responded eagerly.

“Damon Salvatore might be mentioned in the Gilbert Journal, but he is a featured character in Stefan Salvatore’s journals.”

“You’d let me look at them?” Jack was dumbfounded. Nobody had ever lent him something quite as priceless as historic family journals before. 

“Of course, you are a Salvatore, aren’t you?” He looked fondly at the boy. 

Despite how he had acted, Damon did feel for Jack- alone, forsaken by the world. Damon could identify with that feeling; he had felt rejected for most of his long life- after all, ‘it was always Stefan.’

The only person who had never made him feel second best Alaric, which is why he had to let him go all those years ago. Damon knew by staying in Alaric’s life, he was taking away his dreams of having a family, which is why he didn’t let their relationship continue to develop, and why he decided to focus all of his attention of gaining Elena’s affections.

*****

Jack sat on the couch reading the Gilbert journal, later that night, when all of a sudden, “Vampires?” he exclaimed.

“What about them?” Damon inquired hesitantly,

“This man, Jonathan Gilbert, actually believed that the Salvatore brothers were real vampires?”

“Well he’s a loon, of course,” Damon replied evenly, “I said he was crazed.”

“And the witches?”

“Also, a fallacy.”

Jack paused thoughtfully, and then said, “But are they?” He held his breath and waited for a response from the dark haired ex- vampire.

“Why would you say that?” asked Damon sharply.

“Because of the Salvatore curse.”

“The what?”

“The Salvatore Curse- surely you know about it. It began with your namesake- the other Damon Salvatore. During the Civil War, Damon Salvatore left our great great great grandmother, Margaret Butler Meade after he impregnated her. He ruined her reputation, and her sister, Henrietta- who was a witch, cursed him for it. Her father was the famous Union leader Major General George Meade was furious, and never let her remarry. Margaret was left to live her life alone with no one to love her for the rest of time.”

Damon opened and shut his mouth of few times; he was astounded, “Um no. I hadn’t heard that story before.”

“That’s why it is so confusing that you are still alive.”

“How is that confusing?”

“Damon Salvatore’s line all die at age 24, after having exactly one heir; that’s part of the curse.”

“Why 24?”

“It was the age that Damon left Margaret and abandoned his post in the Confederate Army. Hey, maybe you were in a different branch of the family that was not cursed. You could be like my cousin.”

“How is it that you know all of this?” “You aren’t the only one who has been passed down a family journal.”

“Whose journal do you have?”

“Ethan Salvatore. The original Damon Salvatore’s son.” 

“His… son?” Damon felt all of the air leave his lungs. He had a son, a dead- long dead son. If he had died at 24, that would have made it… 1888. Damon couldn’t even remember what he was doing in 1888. Pining for Katherine, that’s for sure, but he had not even met Sage yet- the vampire who had taught him that vampires played by different rules and who taught him to revel in his new life. He had been moping, waiting for Katherine, and his son had been dying, and he did not even know. 

“What did you say the son’s name was?” Damon was being to feel faint.

“Ethan Salvatore.” 

“Ethan. Good name.” 

“Yeah. Hey, are you okay? You look a little pale.”

“Uhh… I’m gonna get some air.” Damon left abruptly and walked through the back door onto the Craftsman Back Porch. His head was spinning. He had had a son! A dead son. Which meant that this was his child’s child’s child’s…. This was his grandson. He should probably count the generations or at least look at the family tree again. Damon mind raced. Did Ethan have a good life, despite being a short one? Ethan had learned to hate Damon because he missed it- he missed his own son’s entire life. Did that make Damon worse than Giuseppe? 

Damon had, by 1888, known about the supernatural. He could have gotten Emily Bennett’s help to break this Salvatore Curse, if he had only known about him. His son had died. His grandsons had died. How many other generations of his heirs had died, too? It was all because of him. But Damon was still here. Why had they not cursed him?

“Damon?”

“Huh?” Damon snapped out of his thoughts and looked up to see Alaric standing on the porch.

“Are you gonna be okay?”

“I don’t know,” whispered Damon back to him.

“Well, what are you going to tell Jack?”

“I don’t know,” he repeated. “I don’t know.” Damon’s voice began to shake, he tried to take a deep breath, and suddenly he was wrapped in warmth. Alaric’s arms held him tightly against his chest. 

“Just breathe,” Alaric said as he rubbed his back.

“How was I…?” 

“You didn’t know,” Alaric assured him. “If you had known, you would have done something different.”

“Would I have?”

“Yes,” Alaric said firmly. He put his hands on both of Damon’s shoulders. “You would have. You really aren’t as selfish as you try to make yourself seem.”

Damon looked upon into Alaric’s eyes, “Are you really so sure?”

“You can be a real ass, but abandon your own child? That doesn’t seem like the Damon Salvatore I know.”

“No?”

“You watched over six supernatural teenagers for the better part of a decade. You aren’t the type of man to walk out on his own kid.”

“But I left.”

“Yes.”

“And he hated me for it,” Damon said disgusted with himself.

“And I’m certain there is more to your side of the story, than what Ethan Salvatore wrote in that book. Now, it is your job to tell Jack.”

“You think I should tell him?” asked Damon. Alaric nodded. “The whole story? He’s never going to understand.”

“I don’t think that you will get a better opportunity,” replied Alaric.

“A better opportunity to tell me what?” Jack opened the porch door.

Damon took a deep breath and said, “To tell you some more family history.”

*****

Damon walked inside and opened the liquor cabinet. He poured himself a large serving of bourbon, downed it, and then refilled his glass. He took two other crystal tumblers out of the cabinet and poured a measure in each of them. He handed one to Alaric and the other one to Jack. Alaric looked at him alarmed, and Jack looked up at him curious.

“What? He’s going to need it.” Alaric put his hands up in surrender. “Just don’t get used to it,” Damon added to Jack.

“I won’t,” Jack assured him.

“How to begin… Well, I guess it is safe to assume that if you already believe you are cursed, it’s not a huge jump to believe that what is written in Jonathan Gilbert’s journal is true as well.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“I am.”

“About the vampires? No way! Come on, Ric, help me out," exclaimed Jack.

“I can’t,” Ric answered, “He’s right. Vampires exist. Vampires, witches, doppelgangers, even werewolves… They are all very real.”

“But what does that have to do with our family history?”

“You’re not getting it, Jack, I am the family history. There is only one Damon Salvatore on that family tree, because there is only one Damon Salvatore; it wasn’t a misprint. I am that Damon Salvatore. I was born in 1839, just like the paper says.”

“But that means…”

“Yes.”

“And you are a…”

“Well not anymore, but yes. I was a vampire for 154 years.”

“You have got to be fucking with me, right? Prove it.”

“How? I don’t have the fangs anymore.”

“I don’t know, you can’t be. This can’t be.” Jack was silent for a while, contemplating what he had just learned, when suddenly he shouted, “Traitor!” Damon sat downhearted, despondent, and not just a little bit dejected, as Jack continued, “You abandoned the army, you abandoned your family, you abandoned your wife. You abandoned everything. You are nothing but a coward!” 

This is what Damon had feared.

“Hey, that’s not fair!” Alaric’s temper raged. “He didn’t know you, but he took you in; brought you here to protect you, and this is how you show your gratitude? By berating him?” 

“It’s not like he wanted to help. You practically forced me on him. You and Elena. Why put up with someone as selfish as him?” argued Jack.

“Damon is a good man.”

“He’s a coward and quitter, and if you can’t see that it doesn’t show much about you either,” Jack retorted.

“Leave Alaric out of this,” growled Damon.

“Why? So that you will have someone left to fight your battles for you?”

“You are right, I am selfish!” Damon got up and threw his glass into the fireplace. “I’ve done a lot of terrible things in my life; things that only benefit me, and I’ve come to terms with them, but abandoning your great grandmother was not one of them. Now, pay attention, Jack, because there is a hell of a lot more to that story, than what you read in that journal. And I’m only gonna tell it once.

The year was 1864, when my father enlisted me in Confederate Army as a member of the 23rd Virginia Infantry Regiment. That summer, I headed to Gettysburg, Pennsylvania to kill for a cause I didn’t believe in. 

There I met a woman named Maggie Meade, who much to her father’s dismay, traveled in secret to Gettysburg from Philadelphia, as well. We got to know each other quite… thoroughly... and on several occasions. What I didn’t realize was the father she displeased was a General in the Union Army who was widely known for his temper. When he found out about our… relations, he was displeased…”

*****

“You have done enough.” General George Meade snapped, “My Maggie has been seen philandering with a Confederate soldier. No Union soldiers will touch her now. She has been ruined. You have stained all that this family stands for and you will not see her again.”

“But, Sir…” Damon started.

“If you come for her, I will make sure that your entire battalion is the first to die.” 

“I don’t even… I support your cause, Sir, the Union Army,” Damon pleaded. “Could I fight for you? Switch sides?”

“Never. The Union does not want turncoats. We have standards.” 

“You need people like me to bring you information,” said Damon confidently.

“I need nothing from you, traitor!” Meade seethed. “You have sullied my dear Maggie’s good name and that is something she will never forgive. I will see to it that your blood stains the grey of your Uniform jacket red, and that is a promise I intend to keep. So, run. If you truly don’t believe in the war you are fighting, leave and never return. I will gladly kill you myself, if I ever lay eyes on you again,” the General threatened Damon. He raised a sharpened blade and ran it along thin skin of Damon’s neck, so that blood dripped down his neck and soaked the white cloth of his collar. The General grinned menacingly.

Damon ran into the woods and hurried back to his battalion, swearing that he would find a way back to his girl, someday.

But Damon’s personal hell would occur the next day. After asking for leave from his commander to return home, Damon was asked to round up deserters. Maybe his commander sensed his unhappiness, and wanted use this incident as an example of what would happen if he decided to leave, or maybe he just needed someone to clean his mess. In either case, Damon and Henry found the deserters and the family that protected them the next day…

*****

“The pair of us ended the whole family, the soldiers, and I was granted leave to come back to Mystic Falls to Stefan; from there I never looked back,” said Damon.

“And you never went back for Maggie?” asked Jack, affected.

“I would never deserve her love after I took those innocent people’s lives.”

“So, you left her.”

“Yes, well. Shortly after that, I fell for another woman; my life turned upside down from there. I put the whole ordeal out of my mind. Like I said, Maggie is an important figure in your story, but up until now, she was a very minor character in mine. I had no idea she was pregnant, all that I knew was that her father would never let us be together.”

“So, you forgot about her,” prodded Jack.

“After that, Katherine Pierce came to town and there was no room for any other woman in my life. I eagerly died for her love. And thought we could be together forever.”

“And that’s when you.…”

“She fed me her blood, I turned into a vampire, and spent the next 140 years as a love-sick fool desperate for her affection.”

“Then, when did you meet Alaric?” asked Jack.

“That was many years later.”

“Oh, you’re not a vampire, then?”

“Well no….” Alaric thought back to the short time he was a bloodsucker. “I actually met Damon after I came to town to kill him.”

“You what?”

“Well, I killed his wife,” added Damon.

“Not well,” continued Alaric, “She did come back. The bitch.” Alaric and Damon continued to add saucy bits of their tale without giving away enough details to piece it together.

“You guys make my head hurt,” said Jack. 

Alaric and Damon laughed. 

“It’s getting late,” announced Alaric. “We should be getting to bed.”

“Jack, you can take the bedroom at the end of the hall; it is Elena’s brother’s room.”

“Alright, thanks, guys. Night,” Jack stood up, stretched his back, and left the room shaking his head.

“Where are you going to sleep?” Alaric asked Damon.

“I’m having another drink,” replied Damon, as if that was the answer to Ric’s question. Damon took Ric’s glass and his own and poured a hefty amount of liquor in each.

“This home is full of ghosts, isn’t it,” Ric said. When Damon nodded, Alaric added, “That’s how I ended up sleeping on the Gilbert’s couch for six months.” 

“Maybe I’ll do the same. Just pass out here.” The pair sat on the couch and drank their beverages in silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Damon. Always second best, selfish, and never Stefan.
> 
> Also, General George Meade was a real general at the Battle of Gettysburg, and Margaret Butler Meade was really his daughter. Because she never married, there were no other public records to be found, which is where I found my opening. Hey, there are worse ways to sully your good name than with Damon Salvatore in your bed. I hope she doesn't mind too much.


	7. Ghosts

**CHAPTER 7: Ghosts**

“Do you think I could do this?” asked Damon after several minutes of silence.  The pair of them sat on the couch of the Gilbert’s lake house drinking.

“Do what?” asked Alaric.

“Keep Jack,” replied Damon.  “I’m not the best role model.  I’m not qualified.  Why does he want to stay with me?”

“You’re charismatic, cool, kind when you want to be, and you haven’t kicked him out yet.  What more could a lonely seventeen-year-old want.”

“But what if I screw him up?  What if there is someone better qualified?”

“I think that because you are asking these questions, you are qualified.  It’s clear that you care for the boy.  That’s all he is looking for,” mused Alaric.

“But I couldn’t save _him_ ,” said Damon his voice cracking.

“Who?  Your son?”

“Stefan,” Damon croaked.

“Stefan chose to save _you_.  He was never in your charge.”

“Yes, he was.  He was my little brother.  And now he is gone.  I just wish… Stefan would know what to say, hell, he would probably eagerly adopt a teenager if it didn’t mean that he would have to go back to that… place.”

“It did sound horrible,” affirmed Alaric.

“Well, I’m going to report it.  There is no way that what Jack was put through should be legal.”

“It’s not, Damon, you’re right to want to fix it, but that will lead Freeman straight to you,” countered Alaric.

“But…”

“And that would put Jack back in the same position- in danger. If you do this, you must remember that all of your decisions will affect him.  It’s part of being a parent.”

“If I do this, can you help me?” asked Damon.  “You seem like it was a natural fit for you.  You are Mr. Dad.  And you still find time to take care of other’s children.”

“Damon, I think, you have already made your decision,” said Alaric.

“You might be right.”

“Good night, Damon.  I’m gonna crash in Jenna’s room.  I’m beat.” 

“I’m good here for now.”

“Go to sleep, there has to be one bedroom in this place that doesn’t hold any ghosts.”

“Yeah, Jenna’s…  I’ll guess, I’ll just sleep in Elena’s room.  My toothbrush is already there.”

“Night, Damon.”

“Night.”

Jack crept back into the recesses of Jeremy’s bedroom with a smile on his face.  It sounded like he finally would be getting a home.  He laid down in bed and dreamt of the seven future Thanksgivings and family dinners, he would get to enjoy before the curse took him.

*****

 

Damon woke up with a dry mouth and an aching head. Damn.  Age had been kind to him in all the ways but one- he now suffered nasty hangovers.  Ugh.  He didn’t even drink that much last night. Being human was the worst.

Grumpily, he dragged himself to the kitchen to drink four glasses of water and two Advil- or on second thought, two glasses of water and four Advil.

He was greeted by the sound of laughter- Alaric and Jack were sitting at the kitchen counter with what looked like eggs.  Nope, he couldn’t eat eggs.  Definitely no eggs.  Just toast- or maybe bacon.  And a lot of coffee.

“Wow.  You look like a mess.”

“Thanks.  Coffee. Now.”

“It’s being made.  Would you like some eggs?”

“No.  Definitely not.”  Damon went to the counter, took two pills out of the container, thought better of it and added a third and fourth.  He wished he could wash it down with more bourbon, but felt like that would make him a pretty shitty role model and filled up his glass with water. 

“We were just talking about going on a hike today.”

“Sounds like fun for you,” replied Damon snarkily.

“You aren’t going to come?” asked Jack, clearly disappointed.

“I’m going to check in with Elena, first.  Then, see if exercising is in the cards, you know physically.”

Alaric looked at him with a glint of humor in his eyes; Damon returned to the couch and turned on the T.V.

“Somebody isn’t feeling too good this morning,” whispered Alaric.

Damon grunted, “My pain is not funny.”

Jack laughed, “It is when it is self-inflicted,” replied Jack.

*****

 

While Jack and Alaric explored the equipment in the shed behind the house, Damon called Elena.  She picked up halfway through the first ring.  “How is everything going there?” Elena asked immediately.

“Wonderful.”

“Really?”  

“Yes, really.” Damon paused.  “I told him.”

“You told who?” asked Elena.

“I told Jack.  I told him that I was his great- whatever- grandfather.  Turns out I am the cause of a curse that has been set upon my descendants for all time. I’m an even bigger jerk than I thought.”  
“You’re not a jerk.”

“It’s my fault that several of my children’s children have died young, just to leave one heir and repeat the cycle.”

“Did you know about that or do it intentionally?” asked Elena.

“Well, no.”  
“You see.  Not a jerk.  If your ex-wife tells you that you aren’t a jerk, you’re not a jerk.”  
“Thanks, Elena.” Her words oddly comforting. “How is it on the home front?” asked Damon.

“Well, Caroline has been holding down the school, there has been no sign of Mr. Freeman, since the interlude- I’m not sure if that is a good thing or a bad thing.  I will call, Care, later today to check in.  Do you think that he has caught on to the plan?”

“The plan?”

“That you are at the lake house with Jack and Ric? Hiding?” answered Elena.

“How could he?”

“I’m just nervous- usually the bad guys strike right away- or call us or something.”

“Yeah, well this bad guy doesn’t harbor a massive crush on Caroline, so I’m not sure that we can text him and ask what his malicious plan is,” said Damon.

“Klaus was so helpful in that way.”  They both laughed.

“Alright, well I’m gonna see what the boys are up to.  Maybe we will come back into town tomorrow?”

“Okay.  Let me know and stay safe.  You’re not a super hero anymore.”

“I was _never_ a super hero.  I didn’t have the hair for it,” Damon snarked.

“You were to me.”

“Thanks, Elena.  How is it that you still make me feel better, even if we aren’t together?”

“Maybe, we were always supposed to stay friends.”

“Maybe.  Bye Elena.”

Damon hung up the phone and walked around the side of the house to where he found Ric pulling massive kayaks out of the garage.

“The paddles have to be here somewhere!” shouted Jack’s voice from the back of the garage.

“Look up!” shouted Damon.

“Oh!” The paddles were stored on the beams of the garage. After finding a step ladder, Ric and Jack pulled them down and brought them out to the gravel driveway.

“Planning on boating?”  
“We thought we could kayak on the lake,” said Jack.  Damon pulled orange life vests from a plastic trunk inside the garage; Jack groaned.

“Do you know how to kayak?” asked Damon.

“Well I’ve never done it before, but it can’t be too difficult.”

“Then, life preserves.”

“Come on!” Jack looked disgusted at the thought.

“No, buts.  I will not have you drown on my watch!”

“But my expiration date doesn’t come for a few more years!” Jack argued.

“And we will not be testing that.  Just because your cursed, doesn’t mean that you can’t die early, and we will not be risking it.  Life jackets or no kayaking.”

“Fine,” huffed Jack and dragged his Kayak towards the dock with the preserver draped over one of his arms.  Damon ran after him and picked up the other side of the plastic boat to help him carry it to the water.  Alaric couldn’t imagine a better scene unfold before him, especially when Damon took one of the paddle, and splashed water all over Jack, who laughed and retorted in kind.

*****

 

The sunlight had faded to cotton candy pink by the time the trio made its way back to the lake house. 

“I think there’s some burgers and dogs in the freezer who would like one?” asked Damon.

“Me!” exclaimed Jack.

They ate their picnic dinner, consisting of burgers and hotdogs, without buns, and canned baked beans, around an open campfire.  The Gilbert’s Adirondack chairs fared well against many storms and the winter season.  They found paper products in the cabinet, so they ate outside and used the extra plates for kindling.

After they were finished eating, Damon and Jack looked to Alaric like a postcard for fatherhood, as Damon taught Jack to play basic cords on Jeremy Gilbert’s beat up guitar.  Alaric stood to leave the pair to have some bonding time, when Jack asked, “Where are you going?”

“Inside.  I ah…”

“You can’t go to bed yet, you still need to tell me your story- how did you end up running a school named after my gran- Damon?”

“You really want to know more about me?” ignoring Jack’s slip up.

“Well, I hope to stay… at least for the time being and that includes you, doesn’t it?”  
Alaric looked to Damon for the answer, who replied, “Of course it does.”  
“Damon,” said Alaric, looking into his eyes.  
“Alaric,” Damon replied.

“Jack,” said Jack.  “Now that we all know each other’s names….  Are you going to tell me the story?”

“The reason that I...  Caroline and I…  Josie and Lizzie,” Alaric tried to start.

Damon began, “Alaric used to be married to a nice young doctor named Jo.  Who had more family issues than siblings, which for the Parker family is saying something.”

“Right.  So, Jo and I were married for a short time and had recently found out that she was pregnant.”  
“Joe’s a girl?”

“Yes, of course.  Josette.  Why?”  
“Well, I just thought….” Jack replied, “You know, never mind continue please.”

“You thought that Ric was….” Damon asked prodding for more.

“So, Josette was pregnant, and then we found out that she was having a set of twins.  Which would have been terrifying enough for any other parent, however Jo’s family was the leader of the Gemini Coven.” 

“Coven?  Like witches?”  
“Yes, when twins are born into the family, they have the chance to lead the coven after taking part of the Merge Ceremony.”

“Merge?”

“During the ceremony, the stronger twin will absorb the other.”

“Absorb?  You mean, the other one would die?” asked Jack horrified.

“The stronger twin would take on the characteristics of the other twin, but essentially, yes, the weaker twin would be no more,” replied Alaric.

“That’s awful.”

“Yes, Caroline and I are trying to find out how to avoid this ceremony at all costs.  I love both my girls just the way they are.”

“So, what happened to Jo?”

“She died.  Jo’s twin brother’s never ending thirst for power killed her.  At our wedding.  The twins then were magically transported into Caroline, the closest woman to them, which is how a vampire gets pregnant.”

“Caroline does look awfully young to have kids that big, but no judgement,” said Jack.

“She will always be seventeen.  Despite having the mom cut and a new affinity for blazers, she will always physically be seventeen,” interjected Damon.

“Caroline is the only mother that Josie and Lizzie have ever known,” continued Alaric, “and I will always be eternally grateful to her. But the reason, to get to your original question, that we started the Salvatore School is to both protect and educate the children of the supernatural, as well as find a way to stop The Merge Ceremony.  We have about a decade left.  But you cannot tell them.  I want my girls to have a normal childhood, or as normal as possible.  They don’t deserve to live in fear, and perhaps they will never have to know.”

“I promise.  I won’t tell them,” assured Jack.

“Thank you.”

“So then, who is Hope?”

“My student.  Her father just died, and he was in love with Caroline- I think she was a little bit in love with him, too.  Her father was a monster, whose last decision was to save his daughter’s life.”

“She doesn’t have anyone else?”

“Her mother was also recently killed- she was a werewolf.”

“How- they exist, too?  So, does that make Hope a werewolf?”

“She carries the werewolf gene.”

“Right, cause science.  Genetics really do seem applicable here,” Jack responded sarcastically. “So, that is why Hope back at school if there is a mid-winter break?

“Yeah.  Her family is from New Orleans, and she applied to come back to Mystic Falls early.”

“And Damon, why did Alaric name his school after you?”

Damon looked sadly at his hands, “He didn’t; he named it after my brother, Stefan, the hero.”

“No. The school is named for you, too- you donated your family home to my cause.  That’s something I could never repay.  I could never have gotten a building to house that many students without you.  Didn’t you ever look at the dedication plate in the entry way?”

“No. I’m too busy making a dramatic entrance.”

“Damon…”

“I- thank you, Alaric.  It has been my honor allowing you the use of The Boarding House for the Salvatore School.  I am proud to be included in its legacy,” Damon said looking into the other man’s eyes. He squeezed Alaric’s hand.  “Well, it’s getting late.  Elena said the cost was clear, and if we are going to start our research tomorrow, we should get an early start.”

“Our research?” asked Jack.

“We have a Salvatore family curse to break, and we shouldn’t waste another day!”

“I’ve never seen you so excited to research before, Damon,” said Alaric.  
“Just because I prefer to delegate, doesn’t mean that I haven’t learned to skim, scan, and scour the moldy old tombs of the Stefan Salvatore Memorial Library with the best of them.  We will break this curse, and give Jack, here, back his future!” Damon clapped Jack on the shoulder, and began to clean up remainders of their dinner.


	8. Remembering Favorites: Banana Ice Cream and Turkey Sandwiches

**Chapter Eight: Remembering Favorites**

Early next morning, Jack, Alaric, and Damon piled back into the SUV in which they had arrived.  They sat in quiet, content exhaustion, the antithesis of the quiet car ride that the group shared on the way to the cabin.  They stopped at a diner for a large breakfast of pancakes and bacon and made it back to the boarding house before 10:45 am.

“Professor Saltzman, you promised!” Hope Michaelson stalked forward towards them as they reached the house.

“Oh, you’re in trouble…” Damon stage whispered to Alaric.

“Um…”

“Dr. Saltzman!  You promised that you would help me train first thing in the morning today, and you weren’t at the dock!” Hope screeched. 

“Yeah, well we were… had to go on a road trip short notice, because we had to take Jack out of town for a few days,” Alaric winced as his explanation sounded poor even to him.

“You said you’d help me.”

“I did.  And I will. It just isn’t a good time- right now,” added Alaric sheepishly, “I promise I’ll make it up to you.  I’ll take you for ice cream- a peanut butter cup milkshake?  Are those still your favorite?”

“I don’t want ice cream,” retorted Hope, “I want to train. I want you to teach me to protect myself.”

“Hope, I’m sorry, I really am.  I realize I haven’t been around recently, but I’ll make it up to you. Can we practice tomorrow?  7:00 am sharp?”

“Fine.  You better be there,” said Hope; she stormed away towards her dorm room.

Damon looked at Alaric with a thousand questions in his eyes. He finally settled and asked, “So did you think offering ice cream to Baby Original would make that just disappear?”

“No.  I know.”

“But I don’t!  I have million follow up questions!  How often do you have to take someone out for ice cream before you know what his or her standard order is?  Do you take all of your students out for ice cream?  Did Klaus know that you were playing Daddy to his precious little girl before he kicked it?  Do you take the girls with you, because I get the feeling they hate-”

“Damon, please.”

“Do you know all of your students’ favorite flavors?  What’s my favorite ice cream flavor?

“You like that nasty banana pudding flavor, but if they don’t have it, you go classic- vanilla with hot fudge,” replied Alaric easily.

Damon quit asking questions and looked at him in awe, “You really are a genius.”

“Well I do run the genius school,” said Alaric meeting Damon’s eyes and smirking, like he knew how much knowing Damon’s order meant to him. Like Alaric realized that no one else- alive or dead- knew his specific order.  Like Damon was important enough to be memorized.

*********

The next morning, Jack found Damon in the living room, pouring over a large handwritten book, his head brushing Alaric’s.  “What are you doing?” he asked.

“Research,” answered Damon.

Alaric clarified by finishing, “About what spell was used. We are trying to come up with the ingredients used, the effects of the spell, etc.  So, we can learn how to break it.”

“What should I do then?” asked Jack approaching the two men.

“Go to school,” replied Damon, surprisingly.

“What?” asked Jack.

“You heard me.  Go to school. Make a friend.  Try to be a normal teenager.”

“Why?”

“Because if you truly do want to stay here, you need to show these people that we are managing.”

“What do _I_ need school for?”

“A future.  Now get going.  Your lunch is in the fridge,” continued Damon, “You like turkey?”

“Yeah?”

“Good.  I made you turkey and provolone.  Now pick up your sandwich and go to school.  I’ll see you after at like 3?”

“Fine.” Replied Jack and then he added, “But you better not get distracted.” Jack left out the front door. 

Alaric gave Damon a look that blatantly stated: _I wonder who he got that attitude from.  Have fun._

“Shut up,” replied Damon.

“I didn’t say a thing!” exclaimed Ric.

“ _Sure_ , you didn’t.  Let’s get a move on.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ian Somerhalder's favorite ice cream flavor really is Banana Pudding... ew.
> 
> https://gocovington.com/Blog/the-vampire-diaries-series-ian-somerhalders-favorite-scoops-treat


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